1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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